


Profits Of A Loss

by OwlBabies



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Heart Attacks, Heart Transplant, Hospitals, Kinda, M/M, Organ Transplantation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlBabies/pseuds/OwlBabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is in need of a heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Profits Of A Loss

**Author's Note:**

> We were learning about organ donning in health class last week and it just fueled this.

His heart was failing.

He knew that years and years of piled up stress would stunt how long he would be on this earth, but he never knew it'd be like this.

Mycroft had had a heart attack two weeks back and now it had him in critical condition.

He didn't have long to live. He was in need of a transplant if he were to make it. He was at the top of the waiting list but…unfortunately nothing his size had come in yet.

"It's like fitting puzzle pieces together" the nurse said. "A small corner piece can't fit in the middle of the picture were a big hole lies"

And despite his nickname of "The Iceman," Mycroft actually needed a fairly large heart. Greg joked that was probably his doing; he was the reason Mycroft needed such a large heart because he produced so much love out of Mycroft. Mycroft smiled because, as crazy as it sounded, was probably true. 

He was proud of Greg, his husband was taking this all very well and tried to keep the mood light and assure Mycroft there was hope with a squeeze of his hand. But Mycroft could see the worry in his love's eyes. He could see the dark bags from sleepless nights under Greg's eyes from watching Mycroft as he slept, watching his chest rise and fall through the night, just to reassure himself he'd see his lover's lively ice blue eyes in the morning once more.

Mycroft never had much hope to begin with, but he hid his disbelief from Gregory. He hated to see the light from his husband's eyes disappear, and if he weren't to live long, he wanted to see them shine as much as he possibly could. 

Four weeks had gone by. The doctors were shocked; they hadn't expected Mycroft to have lived more than two and a half weeks, though after that time they had sent him home with an artificial heart pump that kept him alive for the time being. He was forbidden to work or even look at files or anything that could potentially raise his blood pressure. The smallest little thing at that point could've been detrimental.

Four and a half weeks in and he was being rushed to the ER. It wasn't a war that had broken out, nor an election, or terrorist threat, but a world crisis that sent him over the edge. A crisis in _his_ world; a robbery had struck. Three gunmen. Their bullets had hit two tellers, and one officer. They had gun down his Gregory.

After bringing Mycroft back to consciousness the nurses told him they had good news. "I found a heart that's just your size." A familiar face said, her lips painted in a sad smile, hair tied back in her usual pony tail. "I took care of him, Mycroft." Her small voice trailed off into a whisper as she tried to hold back her tears.

"Thank you, Miss Hooper..." Mycroft whispered as he let the drugs kick in and take over his body, preparing him for surgery. Everything fading to black.

When Mycroft woke up to the bright white light of the hospital room his initial thought was he must be dead, if not for the strong beating that was in his chest and the constant beeping of the monitor beside him. The only thing bothering him was the absence of people at his bedside.

A month later Mycroft was out of the hospital, recovering well. His body was accepting the new heart with ease, the doctors said. Mycroft had regular visits from his brother and John, Anthea, and occasionally Molly, who all offered their condolences. All of them worried about Mycroft's well-being. All worried about leaving Mycroft to himself, or letting him live on his own. Mycroft was fine with it. Anytime he would begin to feel lonely he would place his hand on his chest and feel the beat of the heart inside of him, instantly he didn't feel alone anymore.

Greg's heart was the perfect fit. 

Mycroft let his lips stretch to a soft smile. The love of his life was still alive through him, his strong heart pumping through Mycroft and filling him with his love. He never felt alone or sad when he felt the beat of Greg's heart inside him. Mycroft promised to Greg and to himself that he would take care of this one, just like when he promised to take care of it the day he first laid eyes on the DI.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. I don't typically write angst, I can't even read it. But this just kinda happened. I even teared up when writing it! Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea and actual writing.


End file.
